


We're Nothing Like We Seem

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Kent is a Falconer, M/M, Multi, NHL Kent, Open Relationship, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Stripper Bitty, nhl jack, strip clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:13:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8724934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jack and Kent have a good thing going, essential to their relationship on and off the ice.  But when Kent heads out to a strip club with the guys, he doesn't realise something's missing from his life until he sees Eric Bittle, and he knows right then, there's room for one more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
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> Song/Artist: Confident/Demi Lovato
> 
> Prompt Details: Bitty is a stripper at a very expensive club. Kent and Jack are completely enamored.
> 
> Additional Info: Definitely confident!bitty with maybe a little bit of dom!bitty ;) Kent and Jack are definitely at least friends, but you can decide if they're together or friends w/benefits or just friends! It'd be neat to have a little bit of ~sexy tension/competition between them when they're watching Bitty.
> 
>  
> 
> Huge thank yous to my beta readers for all their hard work! You're the real MVPs here.

Jack elbowed Kent, who peered one eye open, glowering at being woken long before he was ready to face the world. He peered round, a bit confused at the dark sky outside the bus windows, and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Hotel,” Jack grunted. 

On roadies, Jack wasn’t particularly eloquent in speech, that is if he wasn’t abandoning English altogether. Really, it was a blessing that most of the team had been playing hockey long enough they’d learnt conversational Québécois, along with Russian. Particularly helpful with their Captain, Mashkov, who had taken, of all fucking things, Swedish when he was at school.

Luckily Kent was used to his boyfriend’s shit moods, and didn’t read much into the tone. He reached under his seat for his carrying case, then trudged off the bus the moment it came to a halt under the overhang of the posh hotel. Most of the team were already out, far more alert than Jack and Kent, but then again most of the team probably hadn’t participated in an all-night fuck-fest—Kent convincing Jack that it might bring them luck.

Truth was, Kent had just been particularly horny and it had been a while since they’d been able to really go at it.

Jack had been more than willing once Kent promised a few rim-jobs—which were Jack’s weakness.

Of course it hadn’t helped that they were fucking exhausted during the game. The only good thing it had done was increase Jack’s shitty mood, which made him a more aggressive player. And he was less focused on Kent, which meant he was more focused on the puck, which meant they won six-two and sent Kent’s former team home to cry into their Cheerios.

Or whatever.

Kent didn’t entirely miss the Aces. He missed being Captain sometimes, but the responsibility was really a lot, and frankly—not that he’d tell this to anyone _ever_ —he’d be willing to give up a hell of a lot more than captaining if it meant he got to sleep with Jack every night.

So yeah, it was a nice trade. Even if it meant corralling his irritated boyfriend through the hotel lobby. He grabbed his key from Mashkov, but as they approached the lifts, a hand fell on his shoulder.

“Dude. We need to get out and Snowy said he knows this bomb place like two miles from here,” Holster said, eyeing Jack carefully. “Tell me you’re in.”

Kent hesitated, because hell yeah he was in, but Jack looked dead on his feet and irritated by their d-man’s enthusiasm. “Uh bro, I think…”

“Go,” Jack said, nudging Kent lightly. The lift doors dinged open, and Jack shoved his arm against them to prevent them from closing. “I need sleep, but you’ll be restless if you don’t unwind.”

Holster shrugged and gave Kent a thumbs up. With a sigh, Kent said, “Let me go shower off. Can you fuckers wait?”

“Like twenty minutes, max. I need to get a fucking drink in me,” the blonde said.

Kent nodded, then followed Jack into the lift. Their fingers tangled lightly, Kent squeezing as though to ask, ‘is this alright?’ and Jack squeezed back. He didn’t look annoyed or irritated, just exhausted. Kent dragged their case behind him as they reached the room, grimacing because he was hoping for better digs than just a king bed, dresser, and some mini-fridge that sounded like it was trying to give birth to a mini-Godzilla but…whatever. They’d also had worse. At least it didn’t smell like cigarettes, he reasoned as he dropped his case near the foot of the bed.

Jack wasted no time dropping face-first onto the mattress, and Kent went into the bathroom and started the shower warming. When he came back in the room, Jack was wriggling under the covers, and Kent stopped to kiss him.

“You’re fucking cute.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but a pleased blush spread across his cheeks. “If you say so.”

“I do. I consider myself an expert, actually.” Kent gave Jack’s ass a smack, then grabbed the case and rummaged through for clean jeans and a button-up. “You sure you’re alright with me going out? We can stay here and order in and watch Food Network.”

“I just want silence,” Jack admitted. “I don’t wanna think about the damn game tomorrow.”

Kent sighed, brushing his fingers through Jack’s hair as he slung the jeans over his shoulder. “You know the guys are probably heading for strippers. You cool?”

“Course,” Jack muttered. “If you hook up, just text me ahead of time, okay?”

“You know it.” Kent knew the rules to their relationship, but it reassured Jack to say it aloud, and to hear Kent confirm it. And he would always give that to Jack.

Showering the bus smell off only took a few minutes, and when Kent walked into the room for his snapback and phone, Jack was already out. Kent could see Jack’s phone on the pillow next to him, and he smiled as he grabbed a key, kissed Jack’s temple—earning him a sleepy murmur—then left.

The guys were waiting in the lobby, Snowy and Tater already bouncing with excitement to get out, and Holster was trying to shove Kent along.

“This is it?” Kent asked as they took to the pavement. “This is our giant fucking party?”

“Everyone else old and tired,” Tater said with a shrug. “Too bad.”

Kent snorted. “That’s gonna be you someday Tater, so chirp it up all you want.”

“I’m be old man like Bad Bob, with sexy husband and not need strip clubs.” Tater tugged Snowy closer and nuzzled him.

“You both fucking disgust me,” Kent said, then laughed as Tater tried to tackle him.

They reached the club ten minutes later, and were let in ahead of the massive queue. Holster dragged Kent closer by the hem of his shirt, speaking up above the thumping music. “You’re gonna love this place, man.”

“It’s strippers,” Kent said dryly. He didn’t mind strippers, but they didn’t really do it for him. When you had God of Asses Jack Zimmermann in your bed, it kind of took the fun out of looking.

Holster shrugged. “Well through there,” he jutted his chin at the door, “is probably more your speed, you know?”

He had every idea what the fuck Holster was talking about, and he was about to say something when he saw a tall, gorgeous black guy with eyes lit up like the damn sun grab Holster into a hug. Kent decided he was better off leaving them on their own, and when he saw Snowy and Tater slipping through that door, he followed.

The second room was just as loud, but far less occupied than the main club. There was a stage, and several private VIP booths with tall backs which shielded them from the room. Snowy looked back at Kent, waggled his brows, then nodded toward the booth on the far left.

Kent followed, staring at the dark stage, wondering if there was going to be like some Cirque shit happening, the way the crowd seemed to be anticipating the arrival of the dancer. Kent really didn’t care much. What he wanted mostly was a drink—especially since it looked like this wasn’t going to be a place to pick up.

He slid in next to Tater, then cocked his leg up on the low table. A server came by not long after, and Snowy ordered a round of beers and a round of shots.

“It’s not full nude,” Snowy said. “Which is why you can get shit-faced here.”

Kent, who didn’t really care much, just nodded. “Cool, bro.”

“You’ll like this,” Snowy went on. “This guy who’s about to come on…you’ll like him. He’s fucking amazing. And funny as hell.”

“You sound like you know this guy personally,” Kent said.

Snowy laughed. “That’s because I do.”

The lights dimmed further just as the server arrived with drinks, and Kent bypassed the shot in favour of the beer just as a spotlight lit up and silhouetted a figure near the back of the stage. Beyoncé’s _Crazy in Love_ intro began to play, and Kent watched as slender hips began to rock to the beat.

He had to admit, the guy was hot as hell, even if Kent couldn’t see his face. He could see from the shadow he had a muscular, thin body, short and well maintained. The guy’s rhythm was spot on, and his moves were better than Kent had seen in a long time.

The guy did a Beyoncé-level strut toward the front of the stage, then lights came up and he was in full view. Wearing red, sparkling booty-shorts, the guy bent down, rolling up slowly, showing off his pert ass to the crowd. Several whistles went up, even from Snowy who was usually more reserved when they went out.

_“I look and stare so deep in your eyes, I touch on you more and more every time. When you leave I'm begging you not to go, call your name two or three times in a row. Such a funny thing for me to try to explain. How I'm feeling and my pride is the one to blame. 'Cuz I know I don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can.”_

Kent, however, was paying very little attention to his companions. He couldn’t take his eyes off the guy. He was everything Kent assumed, though now Kent got a look at his tan-bronzed skin, smooth as hell, and his floppy blonde undercut. His face was peppered with freckles, a cute, upturned nose, and wide, dark eyes.

He was hot as fuck, and looked a bit like Kent which made Kent wonder just how fucking self-absorbed he had to be that he was immediately half-hard over a dude he resembled. But whatever, he wasn’t here to psychoanalyse himself. He was here to enjoy this.

He dug into his pockets for a wad of cash, and when the guy went down on all fours in front of their table, still rocking his pelvis, Kent leant forward and held them up. “Cute,” he said to the guy.

The guy turned slightly, holding the elastic of his shorts out for Kent to slip the money in. “Thanks darlin’. You’re not so bad yourself. You wanna private dance later?”

Kent’s mouth went dry and he managed a, “Fuck yeah,” which made the guy laugh as he backed away.

Kent flushed, glancing over at Snowy who was waggling his brows saying, “What the fuck did I say, man? Good, right?”

Kent thought maybe he should feel a little weird getting so turned on like this in front of his teammates, but it was a strip club so he could hope the chirps would be kept to a minimum. And Snowy didn’t seem surprised ten minutes later when the lights went down and dancers started wandering round for private dances, and the guy from the stage appeared.

“Hey, Andrew,” the dancer said to Snowy.

“Yo, Bitty,” Snowy said. “Good shit, as usual. These are a couple of guys from the team. Parse, and Tater. Guys, this is Bitty.”

“Itty Bitty, I hear much about you,” Tater said with a grin. “Pie guy!”

Bitty, which oddly sounded more like a hockey name than a stripper name, laughed. “Y’all are makin’ me blush. But yeah, that’s me. You get that package I sent you?”

“I did,” Snowy said.

Kent stared, a little bit of disbelief on his face that Snowy was apparently on personal enough terms with a fucking stripper to get pie care packages and shit. Before he could say anything though, Bitty was stood in front of him, wearing a salacious grin on his face.

“You still want that dance, darlin’?”

Kent sucked in his breath, then threw his most bullshit, arrogant grin on. “Yeah.” He dug for his credit card and threw it at Bitty. “Open me a tab, yeah? Whatever these guys want.”

Snowy winked, then grabbed Tater’s hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s go find something we like. It’s on Kent’s dime.”

“If you max me out I’ll kill you,” Kent said as Bitty handed off the card to Kent’s server. When he got the thumbs up, Bitty straddled one of Kent’s thighs, and began to slowly rock himself back and forth.

“Anything you like, hon?”

Kent couldn’t think. The southern accent which for some reason was hot as fuck on this guy, and the way his dark eyes seemed to capture Kent and just not let go, was almost too much. He cleared his throat. “Uh. You know, I don’t actually do this a lot.”

Bitty laughed, just a hint of disbelief in his tone, and he ground down on the top of Kent’s thigh, making him suck in his breath. “You tellin’ me the truth, Parse?”

“Kent,” he corrected, then blushed. But Jesus he wanted to hear his name in that honey-sweet accent. “My name’s Kent, actually.”

“Mm. Kent,” Bitty drawled, slow and easy. Kent shivered as Bitty straddled his lap. “This alright?”

“Yeah. I’m…uh.” Kent knew the rules. No touching. He spread his arms out along the back of the booth and did his best to be strong enough to meet Bitty’s intense gaze. “You like Beyoncé, or do they make you dance to that?”

Bitty laughed as he ground against Kent, his hips swaying as much as they could almost fully seated on Kent’s lap. “She’s a goddess, of course I like Queen Bey. You a fan?”

“Ah,” Kent said, feeling himself get harder. His face flushed. “Yeah, Bits. Huge fan, actually. She came to a couple of my games when I was with the Aces. I play hockey,” he added.

Bitty laughed, then dipped his head low, speaking right into Kent’s ear. “I know. I recognised you, Mr Parson. I am friends with Andrew, after all.”

“Ah. Shit,” Kent said.

Bitty pulled back, actually looking a little concerned. “You know I won’t tell anyone, right?”

Kent flushed. “Uh. Yeah. I mean, I figured if you know Snowy we’re cool but…I’m trying to avoid scandal, so like…”

Bitty reached out, a moment strange and tender and confusing as fuck, and he touched Kent’s cheek. “I promise honey, you’re safe here. You just…why don’t you tell me what you want.”

Kent felt strange suddenly, his chest kind of tight and he was missing Jack, because Jack would have been so into this. They’d been so stressed lately and Kent realised he didn’t really want to get off, he wanted…something else. “Can we…uh. Talk or something?”

“It’s your dime, darlin’,” Bitty said, and he stilled, though he didn’t move off Kent’s lap. “Two hundred for every half hour. You good with that?”

Kent barked a laugh, “Yeah, Bits. What’s with the name, anyway? Shouldn’t strippers imply their shit is massive?”

Bitty threw his head back and laughed, placing the flat of his palm on Kent’s sternum. “That’s not my stage name, you know. It’s my hockey name.”

“Fuck,” Kent said. “I thought so. You play?”

Bitty bit his lip, then nodded. “In high school and college. I still play with a community team. Which is just basically me and a bunch of friends messing around at the local rink. But it’s fun.”

Kent swallowed, then grinned at him. “I bet you’re fast as hell, Bits.”

Bitty grinned. “I like you calling me that. Bits.”

Kent flushed harder. “Yeah. Well. Good.”

Bitty put a little more weight on Kent, sat back on his thighs, and he toyed with the buttons on the front of Kent’s shirt. “So you just wanna talk, huh?”

“Well,” Kent said. “No, but what I want is kind of like…not allowed here,” he let his mind wander, for just a second, about what it would be like to grab Bitty by the hips and kiss him. He went all the way hard and fuck okay maybe he was a little wrong about wanting more than just talking. Because Bitty was sexy as hell.

Bitty laughed though, and shook his head. “You know you’re real cute, Kent. Normally I’d have stopped this by now, but you seem sweet.”

Kent shrugged. “Well, don’t ask any of the guys to back that up because they won’t. They’re a bunch of assholes. I like to think I’m pretty adorable.”

Bitty’s smile, if possible, got brighter. “So where’s your boyfriend?”

Kent deflated. “Oh uh. Sleeping.”

“He know you’re here?”

Kent blinked at him, then laughed. “Jack? Yeah, babe, he does. I tried to get him to come out but the game tomorrow has him all worked up and he’d rather sleep than get off.”

Bitty wrinkled his nose. “You chirpin’ me, Mr Parson? Does he really know you’re here with a cute guy on your lap?”

Kent laughed again. “Well, maybe not that part, but he knows where I am. You want me to prove it? You could text him a selfie of us.”

Bitty brightened, then immediately dug into Kent’s pocket and pulled his phone out. Kent reached over Bitty’s shoulder, swiping his passcode onto the screen, then Bitty punched in the contacts. “No Jack in here,” Bitty said.

Kent rolled his eyes. “He’s Zimms.”

“Zimmermann,” Bitty muttered.

“Fan of his, too?” Kent chirped.

Bitty looked over, then grinned. “There’s probably a church dedicated entirely to worshipping his ass somewhere.”

At that, Kent threw his head back and laughed. “I’d be the high fucking priest, believe me. I’ve been in love with that ass since I was seventeen.”

Bitty pushed the text icon next to Jack’s name, then pushed the camera button and held it out. Leaning back, he made a kissy face, so Kent did the same, and the flash went off, momentarily blinding him. When it all came back, Kent saw Bitty typing out a message.

“So if you’ve got Jack Zimmermann and his ass in your bed,” Bitty asked as he typed, “why are you here tonight?”

“We have a thing,” Kent said with a shrug. He realised suddenly how damn comfortable it was to have Bitty on his lap like this. He also realised he had his hand round Bitty’s waist and snatched it back. “Shit, sorry. No touching.”

Bitty looked at him, then shrugged. “I don’t mind it. You’re not tryin’ to cop a feel.”

“Says you,” Kent replied with a wink, then laughed when Bitty rolled his eyes.

“There,” Bitty said. “Sent. Now we’ll see how much trouble you’ll be in.”

Kent peered at the screen, staring at the message. **Mr Zimmermann, I seem to have acquired your boyfriend for the night. Just making sure he’s not telling me lil’ lies about you.**

A second later, Jack’s reply came through. _Depends on what he’s said. If he tells you he’s a nice guy, don’t believe him._

Bitty laughed. “This boy.” Kent watched him type again. **He’s not so bad, is he? He was real polite, makes me think he was raised with some manners.**

_His mother would thank you._

Bitty looked over at Kent who waggled his brows. “Believe me now?”

Bitty bit his lip, then leant in very close. “Do you have to get back soon?”

Kent blinked at him, startled by the question, and his fingers involuntarily gripped Bitty’s hips. “I…uh. No. Shit, Bits, are you asking…I mean is this a uhhh…”

Bitty leant his head in, speaking low into Kent’s ear. “You’re just about the most attractive guy that’s come in here in a long while, Kent Parson, and you’re darn sweet so if you wanna get out of here later, my place isn’t far. Will your boyfriend mind?”

“No. Fuck, he…no he won’t. You can ask him if you want.”

Bitty laughed. “You ain’t lied to me so far, so I’ll take your word on it.” Bitty pulled back a little, then said, “You know this isn’t…I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “I’m just a dancer, this is personal.”

Kent’s throat went dry and it took him several moments to be able to say, “Yeah no, that’s…whatever you want, Bits. I like you. A lot.”

Bitty winked at him, then slid off and dragged a hand through his hair. “I got one more dance, then we can head out. You got a car?”

Kent shook his head. “We walked.”

“I’ll get us an Uber. Why don’t you tell Jack about it, okay? It would make me feel better.” Bitty then signalled at the server who logged Kent’s time as Bitty headed for the stage.

Kent’s hands were shaking as he gripped his phone, then he excused himself out the side door to the smoking area a few feet away from the building. Luckily no one was around, so he hit Jack’s contact and waited for him to pick up.

“Babe,” Kent said. “Uh, that cute stripper, he uhh…”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jack said. “You like him?”

“Shit. Fuck. Yes,” Kent gasped. “You would too, babe. He’s so your type. You sure you don’t wanna come over? I really doubt he’d say no.”

“I’m not moving from this bed but uhh, tell me about it later?” Jack offered.

“Yeah,” Kent breathed. “Fuck yeah, I will. Don’t wait up, but I won’t take long, okay? I’m not gonna fuck the game.”

“I know you won’t, chéri. Stay safe.”

“Love you,” Kent said. When Jack repeated the sentiment, Kent ended the call, and headed back in. Bitty was already dancing, but Kent was too wound up, so he grabbed a last drink, told the bartender to let Snowy close out his tab, then found him and Tater cuddled in a booth watching a taller man with long black hair twirl round a pole. “Yo, I’m gonna get out of here, so don’t wait for me, alright?”

Snowy waggled his brows. “Git it, Parse.”

“Fuck you,” Kent said, but he couldn’t get rid of the nervous grin on his face. Bitty was still on the stage, so he sat at the far end of the bar and tried not to look because if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go through with it.

Kent had his fair share of hook-ups on roadies, and even at home. When he was still in Vegas and Jack was in Providence, he’d hook-up once or twice a week. This was not new to him. But Bitty was. Bitty was…something else. He felt a weird stirring in his gut, and it was more than just wanting to pin the smaller man over a table and fuck him until he was sobbing for release.

No.

It was new and it was more and it was really starting to freak Kent out because he loved Jack and it was never supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to cross that line.

He’d nearly talked himself out of it when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and a honey-sweet accent which had gone a little husky, whispered in his ear, “You ready to get out of here?”

All of Kent’s resolve to turn Bitty down melted, and he told himself it was just for the night, it was just this once, and then they were done. They were fucking done.

He let Bitty take his hand though, and drag him to the Uber, and he kept his hat low and head down as Bitty gave his address. Usually Kent fucked in a hotel, not wanting to give much away, and not wanting to know much about the guys he was going to get off with, but he found himself excited to see Bitty’s space.

The block was decent, but Kent assumed Bitty made pretty good money doing what he did, so he wasn’t entirely surprised when they walked in and he found the place well furnished and warm. There was art on the walls, interesting and abstract, and none of the furniture matched, but it all seemed to fit Bitty so damn well, it made Kent’s throat go tight.

“Nice place,” he murmured as he reached for the blonde.

Bitty laughed, shaking his head as he let Kent crowd him against the back of a bright orange armchair. The fabric was soft under Kent’s fingers as he bracketed Bitty between them, and he dipped his nose in close to Bitty’s neck and breathed. “You uh…” He stopped himself.

“I what, darlin’?” Bitty pressed.

Kent swallowed and said, “It’s gonna sound fucking stupid and I totally don’t mean this offensive but…you don’t smell like a stripper.”

Bitty laughed, pushing Kent away, but cupped his cheek when they were far enough apart. “You smell a lot of strippers?”

Kent pinked. “Well not like a lot, but I’ve met a few and fucked some of those and they have like…a smell, you know?”

“What, like Axe?” Bitty laughed, and giggled even harder when Kent flushed. “I’m particular and my skin is sensitive so I don’t use any of that crap. And I usually don’t let my customers get close enough to know what I smell like anyway.”

Kent swallowed, then said, “Can we kiss? Is kissing okay?”

Bitty drew his thumb over Kent’s bottom lip, his eyes drowsy and warm and wanting. “Yeah, hun. We can kiss.”

Kent made a half-strangled moan, then dipped his head low and slotted his lips against Bitty’s. He kept it chaste enough at first, just letting himself drown in the feel of the soft, pliant mouth beneath his. But Bitty wasn’t having that. He dug his hands into Kent’s hair, knocking his snapback to the floor. He pushed one knee between Kent’s thighs, hitching them up close together, and moaned.

Kent’s mouth opened with a gasp, and Bitty licked into it. Kent’s eyes all-but rolled back into his head as he shoved Bitty hard against the chair, his hands gripping Bitty’s hips so tight he thought he was probably going to leave bruises. “Fuck, Bits,” Kent gasped.

Bitty laughed into the kiss, then pulled away, though he nuzzled their noses together. “Bedroom? Or we can fuck on the couch, either one. It’s pretty comfortable.”

Kent’s head was spinning too fast, so he just shrugged and blushed when Bitty laughed, then grabbed his hand and all-but yanked him down the small hallway, and into a bedroom. It was chilly, from a window cracked open. The bed was a double, not made, but the rest of the room was fairly tidy with the same sort of art, and books everywhere.

“You read a lot?” Kent murmured as Bitty began to work the buttons on his shirt.

Bitty’s eyes flickered to his desk, and he rolled them. “Lord have mercy, not any of that, if I can help it. Those are required reading.” When Kent looked confused, Bitty chuckled. “I’m a student.”

Kent blinked. “Oh. Fuck. Like…like college, right? Jesus, you’re not in high school, are you?”

Bitty stopped with the buttons and cocked one fist up onto his slender hip. “You just picked me up at a strip club and now you’re askin’ if I’m of age.”

Kent scrubbed his face. “Fuck I just…I don’t usually uhhh…”

Bitty took pity on him and brushed his fingers along Kent’s jaw. “I’m twenty-three, hun. I’m a senior in college, so don’t worry that pretty head of yours.”

“Fuck,” Kent murmured, then groaned as Bitty’s fingers went back to their task of getting him undressed. Soon enough his shirt, jeans, and boxers were in a messy pile at the foot of the bed. Kent stood erect, flushed from chest to groin, and feeling almost desperate. “You look way too fucking dressed right now,” he growled.

Bitty laughed. “My stripping is done for the night, hon. You wanna see my body, you gotta unwrap me.”

Kent grabbed Bitty by the waist, lifted him, delighting in Bitty’s small yelp. He eased him onto the bed, then quickly worked his joggers off. He let his hands roam up Bitty’s thighs, toying with the hem of his red pants, though he didn’t take them off. Instead he lifted Bitty’s t-shirt, his hands brushing over coarse, light blonde hair on his sternum. There wasn’t a lot, but it felt nice under the pads of his fingers, and he dipped his head low to lick at a nipple.

“Anything I should know?” Kent asked. “Hard no’s or things you don’t really like?”

Bitty leant up on his elbow. “I’m not too keen on cum all over me. But I reckon we’re using condoms so…”

“Mm,” Kent affirmed with a nod, still mouthing at Bitty’s chest and ribs.

“Just ask if you wanna try stuff, I’m a pretty open guy. And don’t chirp me because I _know_ what I do for a livin’ but…I don’t actually have a lot of experience.”

Kent looked up, a little startled. “It’s not because of the job but…I mean. You’ve…had boyfriends or girlfriends, right?”

Bitty shook his head, shrugging a little. “Not really. School takes up a lot of time and most people don’t really get the whole…thing. With my job,” Bitty said, flushing a little. “Soon as they find out they think I’m…they think different of me. So I haven’t dated much. Few hook-ups here and there.”

Kent felt something twisting in his gut. Bitty was sweet, and fucking cute, and damn sexy, and he wanted to shake the population of Boston and scream at them, “How dare you let this man be lonely!”

He startled at himself, not having expected such an intense reaction. He distracted himself by sucking lightly at Bitty’s pulse-point. “Well fuck them. And we’ll have a good time tonight.”

“Mm,” Bitty said, dragging his fingers back into Kent’s hair. “I think we will.” There was a pause, then Bitty said, “Fuck that’s…you’re good at that.”

The unexpected praise went right to Kent’s dick, and he gasped, pushing himself against the mattress. He knew he had a praise kink, he and Jack played with it a lot, but he hadn’t really thought about telling Bitty. Only the shorter man was perceptive, it seemed, because his hand went to the nape of Kent’s neck and he whispered, “So good for me.”

“Ah fuck Bits,” Kent murmured. He pulled back, his pupils blown wide. “I uh…”

“You like that?” Bitty asked.

Kent nodded, looking away until Bitty pinched his chin and brought his gaze back. “It’s…a thing. But you don’t have to…I’m not…” he swallowed thickly. “It’s not something I need to get off.”

Bitty shrugged. “I think it’s sexy. Can I…I mean are there rules or…?”

“Sometimes?” Kent said with some hesitance. “Jack and I…we have a routine in bed. Good routine. We both need it. But it would be a lot for me to explain right now.”

“Fair,” Bitty said. He brushed his fingers over Kent’s bottom lip. “What can I do?”

Kent licked at Bitty’s fingers, then said quietly, “What you did before was fine. I uh…I like that. A lot.”

“Alright,” Bitty whispered back. He drew Kent’s head back toward him, then said, “Condoms and lube in my bedside drawer. Do you want to just rub off together tonight?”

Kent nodded. “Is that…it’s just. I have a game and it’s been a little while. I think you’d be gentle but…”

“Anything you want is fine,” Bitty assured him. He went to work on Kent’s neck as Kent fumbled for the condoms and lube, and before long, he was between Bitty’s legs, rolling one on, and following the path with his mouth.

Bitty hissed, shoving his fingers into Kent’s hair, though he didn’t push or pull, just kept a firm grip on him. “Fuck, sweetheart. Fuck that’s good. You’re so good. Your mouth is so good.”

Kent groaned, feeling his orgasm sudden, cresting, and he squeezed his nails into his palm to hold it back. He stilled on Bitty’s dick while he got control of himself, and when he was good to go, he took Bitty all the way into his throat.

Bitty gasped, his fingers tightening. “Oh Kent, oh sweetheart I’m gonna…”

Kent swallowed against Bitty, letting his throat contract round the swollen cock and soon enough, Bitty was gasping and thrusting a little, and coming. He twitched against Kent who kept sucking gently until Bitty urged him off, and with motions so swift it startled Kent, he was on his back and Bitty was crouched between his legs.

He had Kent’s cock in his hand, squeezing the base as he fumbled for the condom. Kent took pity on him and ripped the packet open, and leant up on his elbows to watch Bitty slide it over him. “Fuck, Bits. You are so fucking gorgeous.”

Bitty flushed, pink and pretty as he squirted lube on his fingers, then smeared it around Kent’s throbbing dick. “You seem like the kind of guy who wants it a little wet.” He began to stroke, and Kent’s head fell back against the pillows as he lost himself in the sensation.

Bitty was still between his legs, stroking him at a maddeningly slow pace, kissing the insides of his thighs, whispering into his skin. “So good, so perfect, so beautiful.”

Kent usually needed it rougher, faster, but the words and the feeling of Bitty’s hand on him thrust him over the edge, and Kent all-but sobbed out his orgasm as he reached for Bitty, gripping his shoulder tight.

When he was spent, Bitty climbed up on top of him, cupping his jaw, and kissed him soundly. “Was that alright?”

“Alright?” Kent asked when he was finally capable of speech. “That was fucking amazing. I have never felt this sated after a hand-job.”

Bitty giggled, then carefully removed his own condom which had started to slide off, and he tied it before tossing it into the bin. Kent did the same, then smiled when Bitty offered a discarded t-shirt to finish cleaning up with.

“I know you can’t hang around long,” Bitty said as he climbed off the bed, “but um, if you’re ever in Boston again…” He grabbed something off his desk, then pushed it at Kent who was already reaching for his clothes. “We fuck around at the public rink here sometimes, so you and Jack are welcome to you know…come by. I’d love to meet him. Unless you wanna bring him to see me dance.”

Kent shouldn’t take the card. It had Bitty’s number on it and everything, and that was usually a big N-O. But he couldn’t seem to help it. Nor could he seem to help dragging Bitty into his lap, and holding his face, and kissing him until he couldn’t breathe.

“I want him to meet you,” Kent whispered against his better judgment. “I think he’d like you.”

Bitty smiled brightly and carefully helped Kent into his shirt, giggling when the collar got stuck on his head. His hair was wrecked and he knew he looked fuck-stupid and worn down, but he didn’t care. His skin was singing with warmth and he felt sated down to his very bones.

When Bitty walked him to the door once the Uber arrived, Kent pulled him close and kissed him again, again, and a third time.

“Will you really call me sometime?” Bitty asked, suddenly sounding vulnerable and small.

Kent found himself nodding, and was even more surprised by the truth to his words. “Yeah Bits, I will.”

Kent waited five minutes into the ride before sending the text. **Hey Bits :) Cheer us on tomorrow?**

_You want me to betray my town loyalty over a blowjob? ;)_

**To be fair, I have it on good authority I was ‘perfect’**

_*laughing emoji* Good luck tomorrow, Kenny. I know y’all have got this :*_

**Kiss for luck?**

_You know it. Get me a hat trick._

**Count on it.**

*** 

Kent did not get Bitty a hat trick, but between him, Jack, and Tater, they scored a goal each, and beat the Bruins 3-2 which was good enough. Kent had a congratulatory text on his phone the second he stepped off the ice.

_Everyone is pissed off, so I had to cheer quietly. But good job darlin’. To both you and Jack. Have fun celebrating your win._

**I’m on the bus home :( But celebrating will be later. You should get sleep, it’s late and don’t you have class?**

_Who are you, my mama? I’ll be fine. And I was just heading to bed, but I wanted to say good job and good night. Señor Bun and I are very proud._

The text was accompanied by Bitty wearing a Bruins jersey that was at least four sizes too big on him, cradling a stuffed bunny to his chest. “Fuck,” Kent whispered, and startled when Jack leant over to see the screen.

Kent looked at Jack cautiously. He’d already told Jack about the night, about the texts, and had Jack’s blessing to continue chatting with the adorable southerner. But Kent wasn’t sure what would be crossing a line. He felt damn near desperate for Jack and Bitty to meet now, because there was no denying by this point, he wanted more.

“He’s cute,” Jack said after a minute.

Kent let out a breath. “Yeah. He is pretty cute.”

Jack stared for a bit, then said, “I’ll meet him.”

Kent looked up sharply, not daring to hope. “Seriously?”

Jack laughed, then leant over to press a kiss to Kent’s temple. “Ouais, chéri. We have a few days off so…maybe we can drive up, eh? Stop by that hockey game of theirs.”

Kent groaned. “Of course you’d focus on the hockey.” But his chirp was mild because he was consumed with the idea that Jack wanted to meet Bitty. And maybe they’d hit it off. Maybe they’d like each other and maybe…

Kent was getting ahead of himself, and he stopped, focusing on his text to Bitty. **Jack wants to meet you. Let me know when you get together with your hockey guys and we can stop by for a bit and um. Hang out?**

Kent didn’t get a return text, and told himself it only meant Bitty had gone to bed. He curled against Jack’s side after that, closed his eyes, and let himself sleep.

*** 

Sweating and shaking a little from the intensity of the orgasm, Kent let himself be gathered to Jack’s chest. Large, careful fingers brushed up and down his back, and Kent let himself come down to the thrumming, constant beat of Jack’s heart just under his ear.

When he could speak again, he lifted his head just slightly. “Water?”

Jack had the water bottle ready, and passed it over. “Comment te portes-tu?”

Kent laughed through his mouthful of the liquid at the casual way Jack asked, as though he hadn’t just made Kent literally scream into the pillow. “I’m fine, Zimms. I’m good. You?”

“Ouias,” Jack said, taking the water for himself. He set it aside, then shuffled them down into their sheets. “Kenny?”

“Mm?”

“Are you planning…is tomorrow going to be for sex?” There was a hesitance in Jack’s voice which made Kent sit up slightly.

“I uh. Maybe? I wanted to see if you liked him first.”

“But you like him,” Jack said, and although there was a hint of accusation in his tone, it wasn’t angry or cruel. Jack’s eyes were soft, inquiring.

“Yeah,” Kent admitted, though he’d already told Jack how things felt different with Bitty. “I do. I mean we text all the time and it’s like…the comfort with him is like how it is with you, even though he’s so completely different.”

“Je comprends,” Jack muttered softly. He was getting sleepy, and he tugged Kent back down toward him. “He and I have texted, too.”

Kent laughed. “I know, babes.”

“I think I like him already.”

Kent’s chest instantly went warm with want, and a little bit of fear because he was afraid if he hoped too much, it would be ripped away. He’d come too close to that far too many times with Jack in the past, and though he had this now, he was still raw from it. “C’est bien,” was all he said.

Jack huffed a laugh, kissed Kent on his temple, then flicked off the light for them to sleep.

*** 

Kent was tired the next day. His dreams had been so intense, he woke up feeling like he hadn’t slept at all, and was a little snappy when Jack came in from his run. Once he had coffee though, and Jack had showered and dressed, Kent was feeling better, and greeted his boyfriend with a kiss.

“You wanna take off soon?”

Jack shrugged as he grabbed a bagel and some of the salmon Kent had left out for him. “Probably. It’s not far, but I thought it might be nice to get there early. What time do they start practising?”

“Uh. Bitty said later in the afternoon, but I was gonna text him and see if he wanted to grab like…a brunch or some shit.”

Jack nodded as he bit into his breakfast, chewing thoughtfully. “He was telling me about baking pies,” Jack said, his words slow and easy. “When you were at the Cheerios shoot and he called. We talked for an hour about baking pies.”

Not quite sure where Jack was going with that, Kent merely nodded. “Yeah, he uh…he does that a lot.”

Jack’s smile was soft and fond. “I never thought I’d care about listening to someone talk about pies. I’ve never baked a pie in my life.”

“God for-fucking-bid,” Kent muttered.

Jack chuckled and flipped him off. “I was nervous until then. I mean, what do we do, Kenny? Besides hockey?”

“And your shitty Netflix history documentaries?” Kent offered.

Jack rolled his eyes. “I thought, what could we have in common with him. What would be the point if you wanted to date him or if…if _we_ wanted to date him.”

Kent’s breath caught in his throat. It was the first time Jack expressed the idea of all three of them dating together, at least out loud. His fingers started to tingle a little. “Well I…”

 

“No,” Jack said, clearly not finished. “I was thinking that, because he knows a little about the NHL. He likes hockey, plays a little. He’s been to the Bruins home games. But he’s…a dancer. He’s a student, he bakes.” Jack shrugged. “I thought it would be too…” He bit his lip. “J’chais pas. Strange, I think? But then he talked to me for an hour about pie and jam and things and I realised, it’s okay. Because I just loved listening to him talk and I think…I want this.”

Kent was off his seat and crowding Jack up against the counter. He rose up onto the tips of his toes and smooshed his nose against Jack’s. “I’m so fucking happy right now.”

“You’re a fucking dweeb,” Jack chirped, using his best Kent impression.

Kent pinched him on the side, then kissed him.

*** 

They met Bitty at a small café not far from his place. Jack was nervous—though Kent noticed only because he’d had years to learn Jack’s tells. He had his hands in his lap, clenching together tightly, and his right knee bounced up and down as they looked over the menu.

“You’re the expert, Bits,” Kent said, trying to break the tension. “Tell us what’s good.”

Bitty looked up, his cheeks pink as he glanced between Jack and Kent. “Um. The cinnamon roll pancake is amazing. I have no idea what kind of meal plan you’re on but…”

“Not as strict as you’d think,” Kent said, waving his hand. “Plus I fucking cheat on it all the time and that sounds amazing. With bacon.”

Jack huffed, and ordered the potato skillet with poached eggs and a side of Greek yoghurt and granola.

Bitty went with peach crepes, and when the food arrived, he immediately stole a piece of Kent’s bacon, smiling so sweetly that Kent felt like his heart might beat out of his chest. When he glanced at Jack, he could see tiny pink splotches over his cheekbones meaning he was feeling it too.

The conversation stayed light between them. Bitty talked about school, his upcoming midterms, his thesis.

“I always wanted to get a degree,” Jack said. “I read a lot.”

“He’s a history nerd,” Kent supplied.

Bitty laughed. “I thought you might be, considering we talked for almost an hour about the accuracies of Hamilton.”

Jack flushed. “Well…it was good. I…maybe the three of us should drive up and go see it. I could get tickets.”

Bitty’s eyes widened, and Kent could see a swallow get stuck in his throat. Bitty grabbed for his coffee and drank a bit before he answered. “Well I’ve never been, so y’all would have to show me the ropes.”

Kent breathed a little easier. “I grew up there. New York, I mean. Not like…not like Manhattan or anything but um.” He shrugged. “Anyway yeah. You really want to, Zimms?”

Jack was flushing. “Sounded like a fun weekend. We’ll have a little time off right before playoffs start.”

Soon. He meant soon. Kent knew Jack was an all-in sort of guy, and he had a feeling this conversation should probably wait until they were somewhere less…in a café having breakfast.

“So. Hockey. Tell us about your team, Bits.”

That seemed to relax Bitty who immediately launched into singing the praises about his guys. “I think y’all met Justin…er, I mean Ransom. Or well…you did,” Bitty said, pointing his fork at Kent. “He was at the club. Your friend Holster knows him.”

“Oh,” Kent said. “Yeah. He plays with you?”

“Mmhmm. Holster too. Justin’s in med school right now but they played together in college.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Samwell. They did well. Swept through the frozen four during his last year.”

Bitty laughed and nodded. “Yeah. I went there for a bit. Samwell. But I ended up at the club and Boston was a better fit.” He shrugged.

Jack bit his lip, then said, “My mother is a Samwell alumni. I thought about going after…” He trailed off and glanced at Kent. “After my trouble just after the draft. But then I got offered a contract with the Pens.”

“We kicked your ass that year,” Kent said fondly, reaching over to squeeze Jack’s knee. He didn’t entirely like thinking about the draft. About finding Jack on the floor of their bathroom. About all his calls being rejected and thinking he’d lost Jack for good.

But that night, the first night the Aces played the Pens, Kent had stormed into the locker room and then it had just sort of…fallen back into place.

“I read a bit online,” Bitty said quietly. “I don’t really believe half the garbage out there but…it sounded…” Bitty took a breath and shrugged, reaching for his coffee. “I’m just real proud of you, Jack. I mean, you worked through a lot. It was amazing.”

Jack shrugged, looking a little shy. “I had a lot of help. But I’m happy.”

Bitty smiled softly. “You look it.” He hesitated when the server came by with their bill, but Kent quickly snatched it and handed over his card without thinking. Bitty huffed a little, then said, “Fine but I’m makin’ y’all at least three pies to take home.”

“Four,” Kent cut in. “Tater and Snowy will be pissed if they don’t get one each.”

“Those boys,” Bitty huffed, but he was smiling. “Come on, we got hours before anyone shows up to the rink. We can go back to mine and bake and…talk.”

Kent looked at Jack who nodded, and they quickly made their way to Jack’s car.

The drive to Bitty’s was quiet, Bitty up front with Jack, and Kent leaning between the two seats. His hand pushed through the opening under Bitty’s headrest, and he let his fingers toy with the shorn parts of Bitty’s undercut.

Bitty sighed at the attention, leaning into the touch, and Kent smiled. He smiled at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he might get this all the time. Once he thought he wouldn’t have this at all. That he was too fucked up for anyone to really love.

Then Jack had come back into his life. Then Jack had given him everything he’d been too afraid to ask for.

And now there was Bitty and Kent felt so full and so…overwhelmed, he wasn’t sure he could take it. But he was damn sure he wasn’t going to let it just pass by.

Inside, Bitty ordered them to relax, but Jack insisted on helping, so as Kent flopped onto the sofa, Jack began to cut apples and Bitty began to roll out dough. All in all, the pie prep didn’t take long, and as the first one was baking, Bitty and Jack joined Kent in the small space.

“We should talk,” Kent said quickly.

He saw Jack’s face flush, and Bitty look nervous, but Kent was determined to get it all out there.

“Bits, I like you. Technically what we did after, all the texting and stuff, it’s against me and Jack’s rules.”

Bitty’s eyes widened and he looked to Jack. “I’m sorry I…”

Jack shook his head. “No I was…it was fine. Kent asked and I told him it was fine.”

Bitty let out a puff of air, then looked back at Kent. “I’m real fond of you. Both of you. I…these past few weeks of chatting and all. I liked it.”

“Me too,” Jack said quietly.

Kent nodded. “Obviously it would be unconventional but…” He stopped, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before going on. “I think we should date. I wanna stop fucking around on roadies. I want…fuck, Jack I love you so much and that’s never going to change, but how I feel about Bits, I can’t just…” He shook his head and started over. “I don’t _want_ to let it just pass by.”

Bitty was watching the pair of them closely. The way Jack studied Bitty with his intense gaze, then looked over at Kent and slowly took his hand. “So don’t,” he said quietly. “I like Bitty too.”

“Well I’m fond of both of y’all,” Bitty said. “But I don’t want there to be issues. And I know what I do is…I know it’s…maybe I sound like a hypocrite,” he fumbled with his words, “but if it’s the three of us, that needs to be it.”

“That’s what I want,” Kent said in a rush.

Jack nodded. “I’ve had the occasional hook-up, but it isn’t for me. I’m happy.” He very slowly, very carefully, reached for Bitty’s hand. “Like this, I mean.”

Bitty let out a slow breath, then said, “So you’d better kiss me then, Mr Zimmermann. Because Kenny and I are a little bit ahead of the game.”

Kent all-but shoved Jack at Bitty with an eager laugh, watching with hunger in his bones as Bitty and Jack’s lips met. It was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. He felt the tiniest flame of jealousy flickering in his gut, but when he reminded himself he was allowed to touch, to participate, it faded into a dull smoulder, sure to burn out on its own.

His hand came out, gently pushing into Jack’s hair, shifting so he could cuddle up against Jack’s side. He saw Bitty smile into the kiss as Jack reached behind him and tucked Kent up close.

“You ain’t being forgotten, Kenny,” Bitty murmured against Jack’s lips. “So don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.”

Kent breathed out a sigh, then began to kiss the back of Jack’s neck.

Not much beyond that happened. Bitty insisted they hold off until the pie was done. The others, he said, could wait. When the timer dinged, Kent was on edge, his nerves singing with want and he could barely contain himself as he watched Bitty pull the pie from the oven.

When he was done, Bitty threw the oven mitts onto the counter, and with a come hither look, he walked into the bedroom.

Kent and Jack were slow to rise, Jack taking Kent by the hips and pulling him close. “Est-ce tout va bien, chéri?”

Kent breathed out, but he nodded. “Fine, swear. I want this. I…this is good. As long as you’re…you know. As long as you want this.”

Jack cupped his face, kissing him slow and soft. “I want this.”

Kent’s breath was shaky, but he grinned and led Jack by the hand into the bedroom. The last time he’d seen it was between Bitty’s legs, and the memory was so sharp and sudden, he felt himself go hard and dizzy all at the same time.

Bitty was still dressed, stood by his desk, and he was putting on music which was thrumming from his iPod dock. “I thought I’d give a tiny show, since Jack had to miss out the last time,” Bitty murmured.

“Oh shit,” Kent groaned.

“You should be a good boy,” Bitty said in that same low voice which went right to Kent’s dick, “and help him out of his clothes while you watch.”

Jack looked at Kent with slightly widened eyes. “He…knows?”

“A little,” Kent said. “Not…you know. Everything.”

“In time,” Bitty said, and cupped Kent’s cheek before giving him a tiny push backward.

Kent scrambled to obey after that, pulling Jack onto the bed just as Bitty’s hips began to shake. It wasn’t as enthusiastic as he was at the club, but he moved like molasses, soft and smooth round the edges, each dip down and roll up like Bitty had been born to do it.

_“Oh, oh, oh, come fill my glass up a little more, we 'bout to get up, and burn this floor. You know we getting hotter, and hotter, sexy and hotter, let's shut it down.”_

As Kent worked the buttons on Jack’s shirt, pulling the sleeves from his shoulders, Bitty lost his shirt, then his jeans. He was in his pants only, snug and tight on his hips, his pert, round ass shaking for them.

_Pound the alarm….pound the alarm…”_

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and stood in front of the bed.

“You want to help me, Jack?”

Jack growled in the back of his throat, “Ouias, je veux…je… J'ai envie de toi.”

Bitty frowned a little at Kent as Jack’s fingers worked themselves under the waistband, and Kent laughed. “He wants you. Means he wants you,” Kent said. “You’ll pick it up soon enough.”

Bitty shook his head, but he was smiling, drawing his fingers into Jack’s hair, down his jaw, turning his face up for a kiss. Their tongues slid together, making a wet noise, and Kent groaned, palming himself before he realised he was still dressed.

As Bitty pushed Jack back onto the bed, Kent scrambled out of his own clothes, and knelt beside Jack’s prone form.

“What do you want?” Bitty whispered.

“I…” Jack seemed half incapable of language, so Kent put his palm in the centre of his chest and left a soothing pressure until Jack came back to himself. “Fuck me. Please.”

Bitty groaned, gripping the tops of Jack’s thighs. “Kenny…?”

“Yes,” Kent said. “Yes, please. I want to watch that.”

“Okay, darlin’,” Bitty said, and reached over for his lube and condoms. He pulled a few from the package, and let Jack slide one on, Kent doing the same as Bitty slicked his fingers, then circled one round Jack’s hole. “Grab his legs, sweetheart,” Bitty said to Kent. “Keep ‘em up for me.”

Kent hurried to obey, watching with wide, hungry eyes as Bitty slipped one finger into Jack with little finesse. It was strange how Bitty seemed to be able to read what Jack wanted, no dawdling the way he had with Kent, sensing Jack wanted things just this side of rough.

It was only moments before Bitty had two fingers inside Jack, then three, pumping and curling them, making Jack’s hip stutter, delicious moans falling from his lips. Kent was painfully hard, aching to touch himself, but he wanted to wait. Needed to wait. To watch them connect, to see this play out and assure himself this was going to work, this was going to be okay.

“On your hands and knees sweetheart,” Bitty said, urging Jack up. “Get between Kent’s legs, alright? Rest your head on his thigh there.”

Kent hurried into position, feeling a warm comfort as Jack’s head rested against his hot skin. Kent brushed his knuckles down Jack’s cheek. “Hey babe.”

Jack smiled as much as he could manage, and said, “Hey,” before it turned into a long moan. Bitty was positioned behind him, and began the slow push in. Jack’s hips snapped backward after a second, when he couldn’t hold back anymore, and Kent looked up, his gaze connecting with Bitty’s.

The smaller man looked lost in it, his breath coming in pants, like he was barely holding on. His fingers were gripping Jack’s hips, and it was obvious Jack was the one doing the fucking. Bitty was frozen with pleasure and Jack’s hips were pushing back, back, taking Bitty in as deep as he could.

After a moment, Bitty recovered, his mouth set in a determined line, and his hips began to snap forward as he grunted and groaned. “F-fuck. Fuck. Touch…touch him, Kenny. I’m not…it won’t…I’m almost…”

Kent scrambled to adjust his position, to reach between them. It was an uncomfortable stretch, hurting his shoulder, but he got his fingers round Jack’s cock and began to pump him fast, the pressure the way he knew Jack liked it, and seconds before Bitty collapsed forward with his own orgasm, Jack came.

The sound of it was filthy, the feeling of Jack’s cock pulsing in his hand, and Kent felt himself right on the edge of desperate as he began to jerk himself. He had wanted to wait, for one of them at least, but he couldn’t. Jack’s head was too close to his cock, and it was when Jack turned his face, licking a stripe up the side, that Kent lost it.

He let out a sobbing groan as he spurted inside the condom, and his vision whited out for a moment. When he came too, he was lying back against the headboard, Jack’s head on his thigh again, and Bitty already taking the condom off.

The blonde came up, nuzzling into Kent’s side, reaching for his face. “I wanted to take care of you.”

“Sorry,” Kent said, feeling a surge of misery. “I couldn’t…it was so good. I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t,” Bitty and Jack said at the same time. Bitty grinned down at the exhausted man on Kent’s leg, then said, “You have nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. At all. You were gorgeous and wonderful and perfect. This is…I’m a little nervous, a little scared, but I want it. Both of you.”

Kent somehow found the strength to put his arm round Bitty’s shoulders, and tucked him in close. “Me too, babes. This is…I don’t know that I’ve ever been this happy.”

Jack hummed, and eventually got himself sorted so he was up against Kent’s other side, and his hand drifted across to tangle with Bitty’s. “It won’t be easy. We’re not around a lot during the season. And playoffs mean…”

“That Jack’s kind of a dick,” Kent supplied.

Jack rolled his eyes, but acquiesced to the statement. “I can be. I don’t mean to but…it’s a tough game.”

“It’s alright. I know hockey players, remember,” Bitty said with a small laugh. He brushed a bit of fringe from Jack’s forehead as he pressed a kiss to the side of Kent’s chest. “I can handle it.” There was a silence, then Bitty asked, “You two mind my job?”

Kent carefully drew his thumb over Bitty’s eyebrow, smoothing it down. “Are you going to ask me if we mind the job of the guy I paid to give me a lap dance?”

Bitty shrugged. “A lot of people date strippers thinking they need to be saved or…whatever.”

Kent chuckled. “Literally all I care about is that you’re happy, Bits.”

“Same,” Jack muttered, still not ready for big, long sentences yet.

Bitty smiled at them both, then nestled between their arms. “Okay. Because I like it there. I’m happy and everyone’s real, real nice.”

“Good,” Kent said, and suddenly the post coitus fatigue set in, and he yawned. “Have we got time for a nap before hockey?”

“Definitely,” Bitty said, his voice heavy now, and very sated. 

Jack wriggled down a little to pull the sheets up over them, and Kent let himself bask in the knowledge that they were here. This was his. The skin he was touching, the soft mouth pressing a kiss to his neck, the fingers drifting along his hip.

He didn’t know what he’d ever done to deserve this. But he did know one thing, while he had it, was going to appreciate the hell out of it, and protect it with everything he had in him.

He drifted off to the sounds of Bitty and Jack’s breath mingled together, and the smell of them all wrapped up, and felt sated and comforted in a way he never had before.

**Epilogue**

_“Up in the club, we just broke up, I'm doing my own little thing. You decided to dip but now you wanna trip, cause another brother noticed me. I'm up on him, he up on me, don't pay him any attention. Cause I cried my tears, for three good years, ya can't be mad at me.”_

Kent watched from the bar with a smile as the ‘girls’ night out’ group screamed as Bitty ripped his shirt off, and went down to a crouch, displaying everything he had in his tiny boy-shorts. When he rolled back up, he had several wads of bills tucked into the elastic, and he grinned as he rolled his hips, displaying his ass to the rhythm of Beyoncé.

Kent thumbed the rim of his drink, enjoying the show, but more than that, anxious for Bitty to get off the stage. It would be his last dance of the night, and while Kent knew he could sit and watch him work his body for hours and hours, he was looking forward to getting his hands across the expanse of tanned, gorgeous skin.

The song carried on for a while, and Kent was done with his single beer by the time Bitty finally swept out of the side door. He was still wearing the shorts and a tank top, but he had on a Falconer’s zip-top hoodie, open, with his hands shoved in the front pockets.

Kent looked around for Jack, but it was obvious the other man was caught up with Ransom still, which left Kent alone to drag Bitty closer, cupping his cheek, drawing their kiss out and out and out.

Kent was only interrupted by an echoing groan. “How much did you have to pay for that service?” one of the slightly inebriated women from the break-up party asked.

Three of them hung by, and they were not shy in ogling Bitty.

He merely smiled at them as he gently pulled away from Kent’s arms. Before he could speak, however, another set of arms came round Bitty’s waist, tucking his back against the tall torso, and Kent watched with a slight grin as Jack slid Bitty’s platinum band on his finger.

“Well,” Bitty said to the ladies with a honey-slow smile, “it costs exactly one platinum band, and five minutes of poorly-worded wedding vows.”

Their eyes widened even as Kent put his hand to his heart. “How dare you. We worked on those for days.”

“And you quoted Britney Spears at me in the end,” Bitty chirped, swatting at Kent as Jack dipped low to kiss his neck. “Honestly, I know you have better words than that, sweetheart.”

The women were staring and one of them whispered, “Holy shit are you…?” Her eyes were on Jack.

Jack sighed, but he didn’t relinquish his hold on Bitty. They were the worst-kept secret of the NHL, celebrating their one-month wedding anniversary, and one year of being together, and planned to come out after playoffs. 

 

“I am,” Jack said. “And we’d appreciate you keeping this quiet until the end of the season.”

Kent slid a little closer and hooked his pinky finger onto Bitty’s. “We’re coming out when we win the cup.”

“Don’t you mean _if_?” one of the women asked.

Bitty laughed. “No. He means when.”

The ladies giggled, and Kent shrugged. “See, we have this grand plan to plop this pert little ass in the cup right there on the ice…” He palmed Bitty’s butt for demonstration, making Bitty yelp and blush.

“Then we’re going to kiss him,” Jack said, and pushed his lips to Bitty’s cheeks. “And let the world know.”

“Lord you two sure know how to make a scene,” Bitty scolded. “Anyway, you ladies have a good night, okay? It was real fun dancin’ for you.” Bitty turned and dragged them away.

As Kent followed slightly behind, he heard one of them say, “God I can’t believe that. Two NHL husbands. Fuck. What am I doing wrong?”

 

“Well you’re not an adorable gay southern boy, are you?” the other one asked.

“Guess that’s my problem,” she replied sadly, making Kent laugh.

They went out the back door, and Kent wore the small grin on his face as he followed behind. His entire body hummed with the rightness of it all. He could picture it, too. The victory lap. Holding Bitty, kissing him, telling the world that yeah, he was in love with two men and yeah, he was fucking happy.

Kent came back to himself when Bitty touched his cheek. Jack was already in the car, switching it on, and Bitty’s wide, dark eyes looked concerned. “Alright, sweetheart?”

Kent sighed and nodded, smiling at him. “I’m fucking perfect, Bits. Let’s get home.”

Bitty hummed, going on his toes to push a kiss to Kent’s cheek before he climbed in the back. “Best thing you’ve said all day. I can’t wait.”

Kent smiled as he buckled himself in and thought, _neither can I._

**Author's Note:**

> You can reblog this work [HERE](http://pbj-epifest.tumblr.com/post/154707815694/fic-were-nothing-like-we-seem) from the pbj-epifest tumblr page!


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